


In Repair

by sablier_bloque



Series: R&R [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom Steve Rogers, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Social Media, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers gets a Twitter, Steve Rogers in recovery, Therapy, Top Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:16:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablier_bloque/pseuds/sablier_bloque
Summary: “I’m—I’m tired of fighting, Bucky,” he whispered, choking on his words, so damn ashamed to hear them coming out of his own mouth.Bucky shook his head. “Then don’t fight anymore, Steve.” He said it like it was obvious, like it was easy, like it was an actual choice.Steve looked down at himself, at his body made for war, upgraded, enhanced,super.He sighed. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”In 2023, Steve Rogers lays down his shield, joins Twitter, and finds purpose beyond the battlefield—with Bucky Barnes at his side.A sequel to ‘In Repose,' but it definitely stands alone.





	In Repair

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, this is just… self-indulgent. I wanted a world where Steve stayed in the present where he belonged and got some much-needed healing, but then Sam up and told him he needed a Twitter. And now here we are.
> 
> Forewarning, this is soft overall, but not as soft as ‘In Repose.’ Please heed the tags.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“I’m tired,” Steve said suddenly, breaking the silence around them. 

He and Bucky were walking the trail near the Starks’ cabin, taking a break from planning the mission to return to the stones. They’d left Shuri and Bruce huddled over the new Quantum Realm device, the two of them barely noticing their goodbyes as they left for the trail. 

It was almost autumn, and a few of the leaves were beginning to turn brown at the edges. They had walked this trail every day the last week, sometimes just the two of them, sometimes Shuri or Sam would join them. The day before, Bucky had asked Pepper if Morgan would like to come, an obvious attempt to allow Pepper some space and quiet time so soon after Tony’s funeral. Morgan had smiled at Bucky, soft and shy, taking his metal hand and pulling him along to show him her favorite flowers deep in the forest. She’d gotten tired on their way back to the house, and Bucky had scooped her up, her little eyes closing the moment she pressed her head against his shoulder. 

So it wasn’t a surprise when Bucky turned to him with a grin, eyes dancing, before asking, “Do I need to carry you back too, baby?” 

Steve tried to smile back, he tried to match his lightheartedness, but he was so weary. So worn. So...

Bucky must’ve seen it on his face. Not surprising; Bucky had always been able to read him like an open book with a cracked spine. His brows furrowed, face etched in concern, and he stepped forward to grab his hand. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m—I’m tired of fighting, Bucky,” he whispered, choking on his words, so damn ashamed to hear them coming out of his own mouth.

Bucky shook his head. “Then don’t fight anymore, Steve.” He said it like it was obvious, like it was easy, like it was an actual choice. 

Steve looked down at himself, at his body made for war, upgraded, enhanced, _super_. He could never forget what it was like to be in his old body, so small and sickly, a burden to everyone he loved. Yet it was hard to remember his purpose, his drive before the attack on Pearl Harbor, before fighting the Axis had become his _raison d’être_. Then, before he knew it, there had been another enemy, another battle, another war, one after the other after the other. 

He sighed. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Then Bucky took his face in his hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, softly, gently. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Steve huffed. “What, are _you_ going to stop fighting?” 

Bucky gave him a wry smile. “I will if you will, pal.”

*

“I watched you turn to ash before my eyes,” Steve had whispered two nights earlier. It had been his first time talking to Bucky about The Snap since he’d returned. Steve knew that there were new lines etched into his face, gray hairs at his temple. Bucky’s thumbs had traced them reverently their first night back together; he had to have known how hard it had been those five years. “I ran a support group, and I’d tell people to move on with their lives. And then I’d lie there every night, replaying it over and over in my head, and I’d think ‘god, the universe must really not want us to be together.’”

Bucky had nodded then shot him a sad smile. “Star-crossed lovers.”

“Even now I think… I think that we’re tempting fate again. How much longer until the other shoe drops and you’re wrenched away from me one more time?”

“God, Steve,” Bucky had whispered, tucking his face into the crook of his neck, pressing his body into Steve’s. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.” 

Sweet words. A promise. A plea to the universe, even. But the universe had never been kind to James Buchanan Barnes. 

Steve had held him close, but sleep wouldn't come.

*

“No,” Steve said, responding to Bucky’s pinched face and crossed arms. “I’ve got to do it. Just this one last thing, and then I’m done, Bucky. I’ll retire.” The Quantum Realm device would be ready in four days and Steve was getting dressed to meet up with Shuri and Bruce to plan the final logistics.

“Did you look at that battlefield, Steve? There are so many of us who can take the stones back. You don’t have to do everything.”

“But the hammer—”

“Oh, _excuse me_, big guy. I didn’t realize you were the only being in the universe who could wield that thing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Thor is a mess.”

“Steve, honey,” Bucky’s voice softened. He reached for his hand, rubbing his thumb against his wrist. “Think about what you’ve been through. You’re not in the best shape right now yourself.” 

Steve’s nostrils flared, wanting to fight, but knowing, deep down, that he was right. Steve hadn’t been himself in a long, long time. And the look Bucky was giving him, concern wrapped with pity, made his heart sink. He took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. “I can’t ask Thor to do that. Just… it’s just one final mission. I promise.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

*

Four days later, Bruce and Sam watched two heroes vanish to complete their mission to right the universe, the hammer in Steve’s hand and the stones in Bucky’s. They returned five seconds later, right on time.

*

“Where do we go now?” Steve asked. He had lived at the Avengers compound the last several years, he and Natasha trying their best to keep the fight alive. So he didn’t really have a home anymore now that it was a pile of rubble. Pepper had been kind to let them stay there for as long as she had, but they needed to get out of her hair.

“Wakanda for now,” Bucky said. “Then we’ll decide from there.”

So they took the quinjet with Shuri, she and Bucky ribbing each other as she showed him something new she’d been working on. His eyes lit up in fascination, his smile bright and warm, and Steve thought, not for the first time, how different Bucky’s life would’ve been if the war hadn’t claimed him, if HYDRA hadn’t clawed him to pieces. 

But he seemed content now, and Steve knew the balm that Wakanda had been for Bucky’s mind, for Bucky’s _soul_. Steve was happy that he finally seemed to be at peace.

Bucky looked up suddenly and caught Steve staring at him. His face turned soft and loving, and Steve’s breath caught in his chest.

*

He went to Shuri when Bucky fell asleep and thanked her for everything she’d done for Bucky. 

“I’m so grateful he had you,” he said earnestly.

She smiled and grabbed his hand with a knowing look. “Most importantly, he had _you_.”

*

Bucky’s goats hopped excitedly when they saw him, and his resulting grin was so endearing that Steve thought his chest might burst. Only some of them seemed to recognize him, though. They must’ve been the ones lost to The Snap, their memories still fresh as though Bucky had just left. 

Bucky walked over to his neighbor and spoke to him in isiXhosa. Steve understood some of the language after visiting Bucky during his recovery, he heard a _thank you_ and something about feeding them but he didn’t catch the rest. 

“He’s been looking after them all these years,” Bucky said when he returned. “I told them they were his if he wanted, but asked if I could feed and visit them when I’m here.” Then he got distracted by a baby goat, soft and fuzzy, trying to jump over the fencepost. Steve grinned despite himself and left him to his reunion.

*

Two nights later, Bucky pressed him into the soft mat in his hut, trailing kisses down his neck, his hands sliding down his chest and over his ribs. They hadn’t had sex since Bucky had come back. Everything felt too fragile, like Bucky would disappear into the wind the moment he allowed himself to love him that way. 

“Is this okay?” Bucky whispered, his palm sliding to Steve’s hip bone, resting right above his boxer briefs. 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut, hating this stupid, irrational fear but being unable to move past it. “Can you just hold me?”

“Yeah, baby,” Bucky responded, moving to his side and enveloping Steve in his arms. “Of course.”

*

Steve joined Bucky to visit Shuri at the palace several days later. Despite its sleek grandeur, Bucky seemed right at home there, especially in Shuri’s lab.

“Whatcha workin’ on, Princess?” Bucky asked, stealing a bite of her food. 

“You know the proper address is ‘Your Grace,’” she responded.

Bucky shrugged and grinned. “I was never very good at bein’ proper.”

She smiled and playfully shoved at his shoulder. “To answer your question, I’m working on some new offensive uses of vibranium.”

Steve looked up suddenly, an idea springing in his head, his feet carrying him to her side before he even realized what he was doing. 

“Shuri, would you be able to recreate my old shield?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Steve—”

“Of course!” Shuri said at the same time. 

“It’s not for me,” Steve responded to Bucky, before smiling at Shuri. “That would be really great. I’d be indebted to you.” 

“Ha! Half the universe owes you their lives, Captain Rogers. It’s the least I can do.” 

*

He sent Sam the new shield, wishing he could see his face when he received it, but he didn’t know when they would return to the States for a chance to give it to him in person.

He got a call three days later.

“You son of a bitch!” Sam yelled, and Steve could hear his smile across the ocean. “I can’t believe—I mean, really, Cap? You really mean it?”

“I think ‘Cap’ is _your_ name now, Sam,” Steve responded, smiling, feeling a weight lift off of his chest.

*

It had been difficult for the world to adapt to losing half of its inhabitants. As the days and weeks moved on after Tony’s sacrifice, it seemed it was almost as difficult for the world to adapt again. Instantly doubling the population after so many years was wreaking havoc on the economy, infrastructure, and food supply, not to mention all of the interpersonal issues that cropped up after those left behind had moved on with their lives. 

Early one morning, T’Challa requested Steve’s presence at the palace, so he and Bucky made the trek together, side by side under the rising sun. They parted ways when they arrived, Bucky seeking out Shuri and Steve following the Dora Milaje to see the king.

“Barnes said you were done fighting,” T’Challa said once they were alone, only Okoye standing guard at the edge of the room.

Steve didn’t know where this was going, but he nodded. “Yes.”

“You know there are many kinds of battles, Captain Rogers, not just the ones fought in the trenches.”

Steve tilted his head. T’Challa smiled and crossed the room to turn on a glass screen, tapping at it until video clips began to play: UN meetings to deal with the crises caused by The Blip, activists marching against white supremacy, veterans and first responders pleading to congress for better funding. 

“You are loved and respected in your country. The world owes you many debts. You could do so much good without ever picking up a shield again.” 

*

Steve made his decision two nights later, and then woke Bucky with kisses along his shoulder, where skin and vibranium met. 

“Mmm?”

“Will you come to America with me?”

Bucky snuggled further into his pillow, bringing Steve’s arm around him as he did so. “I’ll go anywhere with you.”

*

“The Rogers-Stark Foundation?”

Pepper nodded. “You’d have complete control over initiatives and the routing of funds. The Stark family would provide the money.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Steve replied. He looked at Bucky who was giving him an encouraging smile. 

Pepper glanced between them, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Tony would have been honored for you to say yes, Steve.” 

*

“You need a Twitter, you know,” Sam said before sipping his beer. They were sitting in Avengers Tower while Steve reviewed his notes for tomorrow’s testimony with the United Nations. Funny how he’d been running from them five years ago and now he was stepping on their own turf to sway their minds toward the greater good. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. You could bring light to a lot of issues that way. There are a lot of Cap fans out there who’d hang onto every word you’d say.”

“I’d be clueless. I’ve never used social media.”

Sam pointed his thumb at Bucky. “Ask this one over here. He’s on Twitter _and_ Instagram.”

“_What_?” Steve asked, whipping his head around to face him.

“What?” Bucky shrugged. “I’m cool, I’m hip.” 

Steve threw a pillow at him. “You’re an old man.”

“You realize you’re technically older than me now, right?”

He threw another pillow, this time right in his face.

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers  
Veteran. Centenarian. Just a kid from Brooklyn. 

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

Hello! Steve Rogers here. Is this thing on?  
2:45 p.m. 11/05/23

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

The Senate is voting on a post-Blip stimulus package this Thursday. Please make sure you call your senators (202-224-3121) to ensure they pass this bill. America needs this.  
2:50 p.m. 11/05/23

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

@SenTedCruz You could start by putting your money where your mouth is, Senator.  
7:55 p.m. 11/06/23

*

“_Steve_.”

“What? That guy is an asshole.”

*

“Have you even been back since the war?” Steve asked Bucky, the two of them walking the length of Brooklyn Bridge, shoulders brushing, hands in their pockets against the chill of November.

Bucky nodded. “Yeah. After the Smithsonian. I’d wondered if it would trigger something. I didn’t recognize anything, though. I wasn’t sure if it was just my shitty memory or because so much had changed.”

“No. I barely recognized it my first time back.” But still, it _felt_ the same. The same heart, the same pulse, the same thick skin and a soft underbelly. Something inside Steve uncoiled, unraveled the moment he stepped off the bridge and onto Brooklyn soil, a feeling akin to stepping into Bucky’s arms. Safe, comforting, right.

_Home_.

*  
**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

Today is a day of thanks, but it should also be a day of reflection and giving. Our native and indigenous neighbors were hit hard in the battles with Thanos. Today, the Rogers-Stark Foundation is giving its first donation, of $5 million, to these native organizations:  
**The Rogers-Stark Foundation Press Release**  
12:30 p.m. 11/23/23

*

They moved to Brooklyn Heights two weeks before Christmas, just three blocks from where their old tenement used to be. 

“Well, our life sure has changed since the 40s,” Bucky said, watching two delivery men bring in their new furniture. The apartment was airy and bright, nothing like the poorly insulated shithole they used to call home. “How are we even affording this place?”

Steve shrugged. “Pepper owns the building.” His salary with the foundation didn’t hurt, either.

They didn’t even have boxes; Steve had lost most of his belongings in the attack on the compound and Bucky could fit everything he owned in two suitcases. So unpacking only took about half an hour. Then Bucky made him put on his coat and they shuffled down the street to pick out a Christmas tree and decorations. When they got home, Bucky found a playlist with Christmas tunes recorded before the war, and he hummed along while twirling string lights around the tree branches. 

“Bucky,” Steve choked out suddenly, so immediately overwhelmed with nostalgia and love, transported back to Christmases huddled around a small, pitiful tree, wearing their coats indoors because the heating was next to useless. 

“Yeah?” He turned around and then Steve crossed the room and kissed him, open and hungry, completely overtaken by _need_ and desire.

“You sure?” Bucky panted against his lips as Steve pushed him into their new bedroom and onto the bed they hadn’t even slept in yet.

‘Yeah, yeah. _Please_, Bucky.” Steve was drunk with want, stripping out his clothes as fast as he could, just so damn happy for this breakthrough.

“Hey, slow down, sugar,” Bucky said before pressing him against the bed and trailing his mouth all over his skin. He sucked him off slowly, holding Steve’s hips down when he tried to thrust into his mouth faster. “Just let me do this, Stevie,” he whispered before continuing his languid rhythm until Steve came, pulsing hotly into his mouth.

And when Bucky finally slipped inside him, the first time in almost six years, Steve cried out, overcome with love and relief, tears welling in his eyes. 

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, trailing his thumb across his cheekbone. “Can’t believe I get to have you.” And then they moved together, a hot press of limbs and skin, until they were both sated and warm.

*

Steve felt good again for the first time in years, floating in a rose-colored haze, making strides with the foundation and sharing a home with Bucky and finally allowing his heart to open up to be loved in every possible way.

And then a fire broke out down the block from their apartment. Steve and Bucky had missed the worst of the blaze while in a meeting in midtown, and there were, thankfully, no casualties. But when they returned, ash was floating from the sky like snow, and suddenly Steve envisioned Bucky’s body drifting into the air like dust, and his breath caught in his throat mid-gasp. Then he couldn’t _breathe_. His chest heaved and heaved and he couldn’t—his breath wouldn’t—

“Steve. Stevie, honey,” Bucky grabbed his middle gently and led him away from the smouldering building. “You’re safe and I’m safe. I’m right here, baby. You’re having a panic attack; it’s scary, but it will go away. You’re safe and I’m safe. Okay? You’re safe and I’m safe.”

_I’m safe and you’re safe. I’m safe and you’re safe._

*

“Sweetheart, maybe you should see someone?”

Yeah. Yeah, he probably should.

*

The thing is, a 105-year-old super soldier who crashed his plane into the ocean only to be woken up 70 years later to fight aliens and gods and travel through time and space and find the brainwashed love of his life who he thought had died in 1944 only to lose him all over again after everything—that man had a lot of things to work through. 

“Where do I even start?” he asked Dr. Perez, a tiny woman with soft, brown eyes and dark hair lined in silver.

“You can tell me what brought you here.”

“Okay.” He nodded and took a deep breath. “I had a panic attack last week.”

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

Merry Christmas, everyone! We’re spending the day at this guy’s house. Some people call him Captain America. You may have heard of him.  
2:28 p.m. 12/25/23

*

A new year came and the months rolled by, bringing a steady stream of fundraisers and foundation initiatives and schmoozing on Capitol Hill. He marched with activists fighting for criminal justice reform and introduced the President of the United States at her campaign rally in New York and testified before congress to increase VA funding. 

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

@benshapiro It’s too late to cry for fiscal conservatism when billions were spent to force these soldiers to fight in senseless wars to begin with. Their lives are at stake.  
7:35 p.m. 03/07/24

*

He saw Dr. Perez once a week, his assistant never scheduling anything on his calendar during his standing appointment (“_Oh my god, your punkass head has gotten so big that you need an assistant now_”, Bucky had said before Steve tackled him to the bed). Sometimes he’d go to his appointment thinking he’d have nothing to say, but she’d get him talking and the next thing he’d know, their hour had passed and another part of him had unraveled. And slowly, oh so slowly, week by week, month by month, the tension and worries and fear began to loosen their hold.

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

It is Mental Health Awareness Month, and @TRSFound is encouraging everyone to work together and #endthestigma around mental illness. I live with PTSD just like many other veterans. There’s nothing wrong with seeking help. Take care of yourselves and one another.  
9:14 a.m. 05/01/24

*

Steve was finally learning that he was more than a soldier, that he was more than his body. He could make a difference without his quick reflexes or super strength or tossing his shield into the fray. Of course, the best part of this newer, quieter life was the man who woke up next to him every morning. Every day was a new day with Bucky at his side—a Bucky who was safe and healthy and happy. He couldn’t imagine ever taking that for granted, even if they still riled each other up all the damn time, the two of them knowing each other’s pain points more than anyone ever could. 

One night, Bucky whispered “I’m proud of you,” against his forehead, and Steve closed his eyes, remembering the night he had said that to Bucky in Wakanda all of those years ago. Steve could never imagine everything that Bucky had gone through, but they’d both been put through the wringer a time or 20 and had both come out on top.

So he pulled him tighter and responded, “I’m proud of both of us.”

*

He started painting as homework from Dr. Perez who gently reminded him that a human is more than their work. He was doing so now in the living room, drop cloths laid down to protect the floors, when Bucky came through the door with groceries.

“Well that’s certainly more colorful than usual,” Bucky said over his shoulder, sliding the bags onto the counters. He was right; Steve usually stuck to more muted palettes.

“I know. I was feeling more…”

“Colorful?” 

He rolled his eyes and crossed the room to slide his arms around Bucky’s waist from behind. “Hey, Buck. I’ve been thinking.” 

“Dangerous words.”

“God, stop it, would ya?” He squeezed him tighter and tucked his chin over his shoulder. “Would you mind if I came out?”

Bucky turned around in his arms. “You mean, like, coming out of the closet?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Well we haven’t been very secretive about it.” 

“I know,” he smiled. “I know. I just. I think it could…”

“Make a difference?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded. “Then, yeah, sweetheart. Of course.”

*

**Steve Rogers**  
@steverogers

Happy Pride Month, Twitter! Today I am officially coming out as bisexual. It was time for me, but it’s okay if you’re not ready yet. We support you no matter where you are in your journey.  
10:43 a.m. 06/01/24

*

“We could get married, you know. There’s nothing stopping us anymore like there used to be.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we could.”

He smiled and reached for his hand. “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE: [anisstaranise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anisstaranise/pseuds/anisstaranise) actually created Steve's twitter! It's so incredible and you can check it out [here](https://twitter.com/sablier_bloque/status/1156404856095170570) (with a bonus Bucky birthday tweet!).
> 
> \---  
Thanks so much for reading! I’m new to fandom and looking for Stucky folks to squee with! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sablier_bloque) (most active) or [Tumblr](https://sablier-bloque.tumblr.com/).
> 
> If you liked this fic, would you consider giving it a [retweet](https://twitter.com/sablier_bloque/status/1156404856095170570) or [reblog](https://sablier-bloque.tumblr.com/post/186669011524/in-repair-steve-x-bucky)?


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